The auction hall wasn’t a hall it was an underground cathedral built for sin.
Chandeliers dripping with blood-colored crystals.
Marble floors polished so clean I could see my trembling reflection.
Hundreds of men in black suits filled the seats, their faces masked to hide identities… or to hide their shame.
Warm hands pushed me forward.
“Head up,” the handler hissed. “The bidders want to see your face.”
I didn’t lift it.
Not for them.
Not for wolves who saw omegas as broodmares.
Not for humans who saw girls like me as collectibles.
Not for monsters who thought my worth could be counted in gold.
But when I stepped onto the circular stage, the lights snapped on, blinding me, and I had no choice.
Gasps erupted from the audience.
“She’s young.”
“Pure.”
“Perfect.”
“She looks ter
